


I Would Be

by cathalin



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: AU, Kidfic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-27
Updated: 2009-11-26
Packaged: 2017-10-17 19:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/180294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathalin/pseuds/cathalin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Adam and Kris meet a few years down the road, when down-on-his-luck Kris and his young daughter Katherine show up to rent a room from Adam, who never made it to an Idol audition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Detailed warnings are in the footer because they contain partial spoilers. They pertain to non-main character death, mild offscreen slightly dubcon/rough sex, and darker characterizations of the main characters than may be standard. If you think you might have issues with any of these things, please scroll to the foot of this document and read the detailed warnings.

He was on a four-day drinking binge, doing a few lines in there, too, plus a bunch of weed Cass had scored for him. Yeah, it was pathetic, but he couldn't muster the energy to give a fuck. It didn't matter, anyway, since all he needed to be able to do was show up sober enough to sing crappy songs in shitty clubs, maybe do a little flirting for extra bills.

He ignored the doorbell even when the ringing got insistent; it was probably Cassidy or maybe even Danielle; she'd been extra annoying recently, and his cell had been cut off a couple of days ago. He figured it wasn't Mom or Dad yet; they usually gave him time to figure stuff out for himself. He pulled the blanket tighter around him and took another swig of Bud; he'd come out onto the beat-up chaise on his patio once it started to get dark. At least being outside muffled the sound of the ringing. It didn't mask the taste of the crap beer he'd been reduced to.

"Daddy, daddy! There's a man here!" A high-pitched voice intruded into the relative silence of his back yard, or what passed for a yard in this shitty condo complex.

"Honey, don't run away like that. You know it makes Daddy worried." A man's voice, husky and pretty deep.

"But I found the man!"

Adam pulled the blanket off his head and looked blearily around. A tiny blond girl with pigtails was standing on his patio, hands on her waist.

"Why are you lying down? It's not bedtime yet!"

Adam groaned and scrubbed at his face.

"Katherine Allen, what did I tell you!" A man appeared in the pool of light from the dim bulb on Adam's patio. He was short and well-built, but that was all Adam could make out in the half-light. His voice had a faint twang. He was from the South, but it sounded like it had been a while since he'd lived there.

"Sorry about that." The guy stepped into the light. He wrapped his hands gently but firmly around the little girl's shoulders. "She doesn't always listen. Do you, Katherine?"

"We needa room though, daddy." She looked at Adam accusingly. " _Our_ room, what we found in the Internet."

The man smiled down at her, then raised his hands in the air towards Adam, almost a shrug. "Sorry about that, man. She got away from me. We're looking for a guy named Lambert. Emailed about sharing an apartment with him? I thought this was the right address, but maybe not?" He looked dubiously at Adam and the dingy patio.

Adam sat up straighter, head swimming a little. "You didn't say anything about a kid. How old is she, anyway?"

The guy pressed his lips together; his hands clenched around the girl -- Katherine's -- shoulders. "She's three. She's really quiet, and we'd be gone most of the time, anyway. She's in school or day care a lot because of my hours. We'd share the room, stick a mattress in the corner for her, whatever. We just need--" The guy stopped talking abruptly, biting his lip. "Never mind, it was stupid not to tell you. It's just, when we do, no one wants us, and we're not--Our last place, they raised the rent, so we left, and we've been kind of, well--" The guy stopped abruptly again, shook his head. "You know what? Never mind."

The little girl made a choked-off sound, buried her face in the man's leg. He bent and picked her up. "It's okay, honey, don't worry." His hand was big, strong on her back, soothing. His shoulders and biceps were really muscled. "We'll find something. Or," he swallowed visibly and talked into the little girl's hair, "or we'll go to Nana and Papa's back in Arkansas. That's probably for the best, anyway."

Adam shrugged the blanket off all the way and swung his feet onto the cement of his patio. He wanted another beer pretty desperately. He looked up at the guy again; his skin was perfect, his lips were full and ripe. "This place is shitty. Tiny. And I mean, like cockroaches."

The guy looked at him. Adam couldn't see his eyes, didn't want to. "That's why we can afford it. Everything else is in the middle of a gang war zone, or so far off the grid I'd be driving so much I'd never see Katherine."

"You have a car?"

"Can't get to my jobs, get Katherine to day care, without it. If I sell it, we might as well just head back to Conway. Plus, we've needed it sometimes for--" the guy interrupted himself, pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a breath and looked at Adam again. " _Please_. We're really quiet, I'll clean and cook and--"

Adam held a hand up. He'd been enough of a shit, and why did he care, anyway, if this guy wanted to live in this crapped out place, even though he probably should have gone back to Nana and Papa's a long time ago. "Take a look. If you still want it, you can have it."

He stood up, a little wobbly, brought them in through the sliding door off the patio; it stuck in its tracks and he had to shove at it. "Fuck you, door," he said, not thinking. Not that he'd care even if he had thought about the little girl. It wasn't his fault she was there. "I do drugs, too," he said as he motioned to the tiny living area with its crappy little kitchen, sink full of dishes. "I mean, nothing with needles or anything, but..."

"Honey, wait here a second, okay?" The guy put the girl down in the living room, scanning it first, probably for anything that might be dangerous. "Let's chat," he said to Adam.

"Whatever," Adam said, leading him down the hall to the extra bedroom. "It's full of crap right now, maybe literally, given how many cats the last tenants had, but..."

"Listen," the guy said, voice soft but intense, "you're obviously an asshole with something to prove. I could care less what you do, but I'd rather keep living in our car than have Katherine around someone who would hurt a kid in any way. So just forget the whole thing." Adam couldn't help but notice how the guy scanned the room even as he was speaking, obviously reluctant to actually give it up.

The seconds ticked off. A hundred snarky responses raced through Adam's mind, but for some reason he bit them off. "I'm gay, too," he finally said. "Really, really massively gay, and pretty fucked up right now." Fuck, the little girl was living in a motherfucking _car_. He took a breath. "But I'd never hurt a kid."

The guy looked at him, biting his lip again. That would look amazing in bed, perfect teeth on a perfect mouth, trying to keep sounds in. The guy raised an eyebrow at him and Adam couldn't help it, he smiled a little, because yeah, _caught_. "Sorry?" He figured the guy would come up with some excuse now, because drugs and swearing, sure, but god forbid a guy liked cock.

"Least of my problems," the guy said.

Huh. "Wait, what's your name?"

"Kris. Kris Allen, remember from the email? Only, the thing is, I can't afford $600. I could probably do $500 if I add a gig or two."

"Gig?" Adam wished he hadn't asked, the second the question left his mouth, but there it was.

Kris's face closed off a little. "Yeah. I play a little, sing, for extra pocket change."

Adam thought for a while. "You said you have a car?"

"Yeah. Shitty one, but it drives."

"How about this. You give me a ride sometimes, when you can, when I'm working somewhere sketchy -- I do gigs, too -- and I'll take five hundred. I can't do less than that, I'll lose the place. I lost my biggest job last week." Adam didn't want to think about that, Michael and Debbie in that little room, loss of confidence, unreliable, diva with the changing things up all the time, next it'd be his voice to go, blah blah blah.

The guy -- Kris -- looked around the room for a few seconds. He kicked at a pile of random crap the last tenants had left when they bailed in the middle of the night, then nodded once, short. "Okay. It's not like I'd ever leave her here without me, anyway." He turned back to Adam and held out his hand. "It's a deal?"

Adam stared at his hand. "Not afraid of gay cooties?"

Kris laughed, not a pretty sound, but kind of deep and throaty anyway. "Like I said, the least of my problems. Just no actual sex in front of my daughter, okay?"

Something in Adam's stomach clenched, but he ignored it. "Yeah, I don't get off on that particular idea. You on the other hand...," he put on his best queen voice, "can watch any time you want to, honey."

Kris's face went through about three expressions before it settled on disapproving. He kept his hand out, though, grim-faced, and after a while, Adam shook it.

"Okay, it's a deal. No boys cavorting in the kitchen with the olive oil," Adam winked at Kris, "and you get to inhabit this fabulous place with me."

* * *

Adam stumbled over something on the floor on the way to the kitchen and swore. It was probably something of Katherine's -- a toy or a book or a shoe with a pink Disney princess on it. There was a light on in the tiny kitchen, too, which was weird because it was five in the morning. It wasn't enough that he had to put up with their crap everywhere; the electric bill was going to be through the roof due to Kris and his kid, and Adam had gotten on the power company's shit list often enough to know he didn't want to have the electricity cut off because he couldn't pay the fucking bill. He'd hoped the extra money from taking in roomers would help him get caught up, but fucking Lonnie had cancelled his weekly gig at The Pit. Not that Adam was going to miss the drunk businessmen on the down low feeling him up, but still, it was money.

Adam blinked against the light; his head ached anyway from the party last night after his performance at the Upright. He'd only had about an hour's sleep, but pain and thirst had woken him up from his sprawl over the top of his unmade bed. He'd only gone in to rest a minute; he'd had a blow job on tap from one of Cass's boys, but apparently they'd all left sometime after he'd passed out. He had some orange juice in the fridge that might help keep down the Advil he'd just swallowed, and a couple of crackers might help, too.

Kris was standing at the kitchen sink drinking from the orange juice container, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He had on boxers and a ratty old t-shirt that was riding up in the back. In the light of the single bulb above the stove, his skin glowed, golden.

Dammit, though, he'd wanted that juice. "Fuck, my orange juice!" Adam said.

Kris jumped and turned, juice dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. "Sorry, man, it's empty. It was almost gone." He shrugged apologetically.

"Don't fucking take my stuff," Adam said. "And pick up your little girl's shit from all over the floor. I nearly killed myself getting here."

Kris narrowed his eyes. The t-shirt hugged his chest, outlining taut pecs and broad shoulders. He obviously worked out. "I needed something to drink after being kept up all night by your party. I couldn't get Katherine back to sleep for hours."

Adam tossed his head. "You're not going to find anything this cheap that doesn't involve hypodermic needles in the hallways."

"Screw you." Kris pressed his lips together, eyes angry and hard.

"Suck on it," Adam said reflexively. Adam could imagine having those lips in his teeth, the sounds Kris would make. He sauntered up to him, rubbed his thumb over the gap where Kris's t-shirt rode up from his boxers. His skin was silky, tiny hairs golden in the slight light. "Mmmm. Maybe literally," Adam purred. "Have you ever tried it, Arkansas boy? Because I bet you'd love it."

Kris put a hand on Adam's shoulders and shoved him, hard. "I didn't know I'd signed on to be harassed when I agreed to share the rent."

Adam staggered back -- Kris was _strong_ , mmm. He laughed and stared pointedly at Kris's slightly tented boxers. "Looks like you don't mind the idea too much."

Kris crumpled up the orange juice carton, hard, and threw it into the trash, then stalked out of the kitchen. Adam almost wanted to follow him, say something; he didn't know what, but anyway, his head was hurting, and he didn't.

* * *

Kris steered the beat-up Accord carefully, slowly, though this area was well-lit at night. Fancy cars lined the street, and expensively-dressed people strolled to their destinations. Kris braked for a young woman dressed in high heels and fur who was carrying a tiny dog in a purse and talking on a cell phone. Kris's mouth tightened; Adam was pretty sure Kris didn't approve of conspicuous consumption, just like he didn't approve of a lot of things.

"I'm going to be late!"

"You weren't even ready until twenty minutes ago," Kris said, not taking his eyes off the road.

Adam sighed. He felt too shitty to argue. Last night had been another night of drinking and weed, and his head was muzzy. He leaned his head against the cool glass of the passenger window. "It's coming up on the right."

"Your voice must be shit the way you treat it," Kris said, pulling the car over.

"Whatever." Adam got out. "Pick me up at one. I'm off at twelve but I'm going to try to," he remembered Katherine, sitting in the back seat, at the last minute, "to do some extra things after."

Kris rolled his eyes but didn't say anything.

It took a while for Adam to reach that special place tonight, the place where everything fell away except the music and the song. He didn't let himself face it very often, but the truth was, it was taking him longer to get there these days. He felt farther from the music, the heart of joy it carried for him, than he used to. And it was getting worse.

He threw himself into the performance, tried to let his headache and his shitty apartment and his parents' silent concern fall away until there was just the soulful thread of the piano, the power of his voice in his throat. Adam could hear it himself when his voice broke free of all the crap he'd subjected it to and soared. Just for a minute, he reconnected with what he had felt -- now it was years ago -- when everything was so clear.

After, he was on a high, manic and a little shaky. A pretty boy, slutty in his short, tight tank, smiled at him and raised an eyebrow and Adam nodded and followed him into the back room. It started out great, hot and dirty, the boy dropping to his knees right away. Something shifted and Adam strained to get the feeling back, the feeling he'd always loved since he figured his sexuality out, a boy on his knees right there... It wasn't working, _fuck_ , even when the kid redoubled his efforts, cheeks hollowing mercilessly.

Adam shoved at the kid and he finally pulled off, looking first uncertain, then pissed. "What the fuck," he said.

Adam sighed, reached to zip up his pants. "It's not you," he managed.

The kid was about to say something more, something pissy, when Kris walked in. His face was tense, angry. He had Katherine cradled up close to his chest. "I've been waiting out front for twenty minutes." He gave Adam a once-over, raking his eyes over him, top to bottom, eyes lingering a little too long on his crotch. Adam realized his dick was still hanging partly out and stuffed himself back in, finished zipping. He was not going to blush. He could do whatever he wanted, had been for a very long time.

"I can't leave Katherine in the car alone. So I had to bring her in here." Kris turned and walked away, back stiff.

Adam gathered his crap and walked out, opening the door and sliding into the front seat of Kris's car. "Keep quiet," Kris said. "Somehow Katherine stayed asleep through all that." Adam glanced in back and sure enough, Katherine was slouched against the door in her booster seat, seat-belt fastened -- he could picture Kris doing that, leaning in and strapping her into place, big hands gentle on her.

They drove in silence all the way back to the apartment. They hit a traffic jam on the 405, of course, because there always was a jam on the 405, even at two in the morning, but made it home quickly even so. Kris bundled Katherine in close to him again when they arrived, darting a glance at Adam that could kill. Adam stayed quiet, because why not.

Later, when Adam was brushing his teeth -- he still had _some_ standards -- Kris came into the bathroom and rustled around in the medicine cabinet, pulled out Advil, still not saying a word. He was wearing that ratty t-shirt again, plus sleep pants that had seen better days and were sitting low on his hips. Adam stared at the expanse of buttery skin showing. He could feel Kris's body heat. Adam looked up, and Kris's eyes were on Adam's shoulders. Interesting. Adam stood a little taller. Kris's eyes scanned his shoulders, chest, arms, then slid away.

"I thought so," Adam said, smirking.

Kris lifted his eyes to Adam's face. His blush was visible in the light of the crap bulb over the sink.

Adam crowded a little closer. "Caught. Like what you see, straight boy?"

Kris frowned. "Do you work at it, being an asshole? You must, because no one could be like that naturally." He turned and left, body stiff, still a little red at the tips of his ears and on his neck.

Adam watched his ass moving away from him, muscled and tight under those thin pants.

* * *

"You were late again," Adam said, reaching for the milk. Kris was leaning against the counter drinking a glass of water. Adam stood a little too close to him. Kris smelled like cheap soap and cheap deodorant, and he really needed some product in his hair. It was one in the morning and they'd just gotten back, Katherine dead asleep in Kris's arms when they came in.

"Yeah. Shit hit the fan at the office. I was late and had to race to get Katherine from day care. She's sick, so I had to call the free clinic and get medicine. I fell asleep on the couch by accident..." Kris's voice trailed off. He looked exhausted, actually, dark circles under his eyes. He looked delicious; the drawn lines in his face made him look even more like one of those paintings by Botticelli of some beautiful angel boy. "I'm just--" Kris put his glass down, raised his hand behind his neck and rubbed it. Adam stared at the lines of his chest and arms with his hand up like that. It was easy to picture...

"Stop it." Kris's voice was flat, but Adam could see the vein in his neck, jumping in an erratic rhythm.

"I don't think so," Adam said, letting his voice fall into his deeper register. He put his hands on the cabinets on either side of Kris's head and crowded a little closer.

Kris shifted but didn't push him away, turning his head so he wasn't looking at Adam. "Look--"

Adam leaned in close to Kris, brought his mouth to Kris's perfect shell of an ear. "I know you want it, don't even try to protest," he murmured, soft and low. "You don't have to do anything if you don't want to, but I'm going to just slide right down onto my knees, right here, right now." Kris sighed, only a little sigh, but Adam could feel it in the air between them. "And then I'm going to pull those sinful slutty pants down and give you the blow job of your life." Kris shivered, actually _shivered_ , and wasn't that a direct hit to Adam's cock.

He slid down, lips catching every few inches on Kris's clothes, rubbed his cheek against Kris's cock through his pajamas; it was already hard. The thrill of victory made his own cock ache, and suddenly he was dying for it; he pulled the top of Kris's pants down and rubbed against him again, this time right up against the silky-hot skin.

Kris gasped above him somewhere. Adam decided he'd better not prolong this, much as he'd like to, or Kris might start thinking. He licked down Kris's length and heard Kris's sharp intake of breath, then just opened his mouth and took Kris in, sliding all the way down in one smooth move. Kris's head clunked against the cabinets above the counter. Adam shivered and pressed a hand on his own cock through his jeans, just to dampen the ache a little.

It was one of his favorite things, sucking cock. He was really good at it, too; Kris was trying to hold back his gasps, but Adam flicked his tongue on the up-sweep or moved so the angle was just a little different, and Kris was coming apart under him. He anticipated Kris's knees going weak and swept an arm up around his thighs, locking him in place. He accelerated his sucking, sliding up and down, the taste of precome and saliva strong in his mouth...

Kris's hands were clenched hard on the counter edge. Adam could see out of the corners of his eyes that his knuckles were white. Adam reached up with his free hand and pulled one of Kris's hands to his head. It hovered, uncertain, until Adam made a frustrated sound, then Kris's fingers clenched, just a little. Adam sighed around Kris's cock and Kris tightened his hand; Adam moaned without meaning to and Kris made a sound like a stifled groan and tightened his hand even more. Adam loved that, the feel of some guy's hand clenching in his hair, holding him onto his cock, desperate for it.

Kris panted above him and Adam wanted to know, wanted to hear -- he brought his hand to Kris's balls, stroked. Kris moaned. He dragged a finger back to the soft skin behind the balls, stroked again. Kris's weight sagged and Adam laughed around his cock. He circled his finger a few times, then began to drag it back, just a gentle touch. Kris made a sound like choking and stiffened, then came into Adam's mouth, gasping, holding his head to him with an iron grip. Adam forced down the instinct to fight, to breathe, and reveled in it, bringing Kris to this, savoring the taste of come on his tongue, in his throat.

After a while Kris's hand untangled from Adam's hair, and he scrabbled ineffectually at the top of his pajamas, trying to pull them back up. Adam stood, shaky, grabbing onto the counter for support. Kris's mouth was right there, and he wanted to kiss that full bottom lip, open up his mouth with his tongue--

"I--" Kris looked totally debauched, lip red and swollen from where he'd probably bitten it, skin flushed and rosy with a sheen of sweat. He licked his lips and stared at Adam, deer in the headlights. Adam could practically see him thinking, weighing what to do.

"Don't worry about it," Adam said, pushing off from the counter. "I'll take care of it myself. You won't have to dirty your hands." He walked stiffly towards the door, cock aching. He smirked at Kris. "Or your mouth."

In his bed, he stroked himself off in seconds, hand in his mouth to muffle his cries. He bit his hand when he came, still tasting Kris's come on his tongue. The guy was fucking hot, no doubt about it. It was better this way, though, leaving Kris wanting something he wouldn't like to admit he wanted.

* * *

The club where he had an interview was even more of a shit hole than the one he'd sung in last. The owner, Charlie, stared at Adam with proprietary eyes, hand lingering on Adam's lower back a little too long. So this was going to be one of those gigs. Charlie was fat and smelled of smoke and stale alcohol, but his dick was pretty clean and he didn't object too much to wearing a condom; there was no way Adam was doing this guy without it. On his knees again, but it was a job, and paid well. His mom had just sent another gift card for Trader Joe's and it stung, knowing she'd worked overtime, exhausted, just to send something like that for her very adult son. So he was going to do what he had to do.

When Kris picked him up, Katherine asleep like usual in the back, Adam just closed his eyes and leaned against the window.

"Never again," Kris finally said, low. "You got me?"

Adam sighed. "Whatever you say, honey. If you want to lock it up and stick it in the closet, what do I care?"

He could tell Kris was staring at him. He couldn't muster the energy to care, or to deflect what might be curiosity or hatred or some other emotion on Kris's part. "It's not about the closet," Kris finally said. "It's about--" He shook his head. "You know what, just forget it."

"Sounds fine by me." Adam's lips stung a little still from Charlie's frantic pumping, and his throat hurt from singing over the crowd. He squeezed his eyes shut and kept them that way for the whole drive back home.

The next day he slept until three in the afternoon, then tried to muster the energy to do a little cleaning and cook something real. By the time Kris and Katherine came home he had a bit of a buzz on from the boxed Gallo he'd been drinking. Kris looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, and Adam found himself offering to make a plate for Katherine.

Kris looked suspicious, but finally shrugged. "Hitting the shower, then."

"Oh!" Katherine said when she saw the sauce and noodles all ready on the counter, and climbed into a chair at the tiny plastic table they had in the kitchen.

Adam mounded spaghetti and butter on her plate, mixing it up the way he'd seen Kris do. Pretty soon she had noodles stuffed in her mouth, some hanging out on her chin, greasy. She looked up at him through her eyelashes and smiled a little, tentative.

He smiled back. She was usually so solemn, and it was, weirdly, kind of good to see. He slurped some noodles, loud, and let them dangle from his mouth. She just stared, and then he waggled his eyebrows. She laughed and tried to waggle hers back; spaghetti dripped all over the table. Adam remembered something that Neil and he used to do when they were kids and started making designs on the table with noodles. Katherine watched, wide-eyed, then hesitantly started making a picture, too -- something that looked like a square with a blob in it.

Adam smiled. "Excellent! Look at mine!" She did, and cracked up -- it was an exaggerated human face with spiky hair. He realized he'd never heard her laugh before.

"Look!" she said, and worked for a few concentrated seconds. She looked up and smiled. She'd made a rough approximation of a face, also.

"Niiice!" Adam said. "Who is it? Is it a person?"

"My mommy," Katherine said. "What's in heaven."

It took Adam a second to get that "what's in heaven" meant her mommy was in--oh, fuck. "Your--mommy?"

"Yeah. See her pretty hair? It's long and yellow like mine. And our names are the same, too, only Daddy won't call me Katy."

Adam sat there, momentarily speechless, something twisting in his stomach. It'd never even--he'd never thought about, wondered--oh, god.

"Katherine, why don't you run to our room for a minute and bring me your reading book, okay?" It was Kris. How long had he been where he could hear? His voice was flat, but the look he was throwing in Adam's direction...

"Listen," he said softly after Katherine left, hands on his hips, mouth set in an angry line. "Just because we're living here doesn't give you any right to mess with Katherine."

"I just--I just made spaghetti!" Adam protested,. He was still in too much shock to respond with his usual attitude. "She looked down, and I made a picture with noodles, and--"

Kris looked at him venomously.

"Okay, right, never mind." Adam cleaned up the pictures on the table. "If you don't want your kid to ever have any fun, it's fine by me."

"She has plenty of fun," Kris said. "And we don't need your kind of fun in our lives."

"I don't want to be in your lives." Adam threw the spaghetti into the sink. "It was you who came into mine." He walked to his room and slammed his door.

* * *

Adam could tell Kris was pissed off and frustrated, and for once, it wasn't with him. Kris's hands on the wheel were white from gripping it so hard, and the muscle in his cheek was moving, jaw tense. It would feel so good to just slide right into the heat of that mouth, Kris's powerful arms holding him there. If Kris were angry, that might be even hotter, his solid body--

"I said, did you get milk?" Kris literally had his teeth gritted.

"Yeah. See, I'm not completely worthless."

Kris didn't say anything. Adam looked at him for a while. "Did something happen at work?"

Kris's mouth tightened. "Just stay the hell out of it."

Adam laughed. "Fine. I don't care about the inner workings of the capitalist system, anyway. Too bad for you that you went to business school. I literally can't think of anything more boring." Kris worked at some company that sold... something.

Kris pulled into their parking space too quickly, another sign he was seriously upset, but was gentle as always lifting a sleeping Katherine into the house.

Adam was still buzzed from his set tonight, a sweet jam that ended up in an impromptu trance set, so he grabbed a beer to mellow out with and lay on the sofa in what passed as the living room, lights off, listening to his iPod.

He saw something move out of the corner of his half-closed eyes; a white shape. He opened his eyes all the way. It was Kris, standing a few feet away, staring at him, hands clenched at his sides.

Oh, yeah. He knew it.

Adam could tell the second Kris realized he was caught; his whole body tensed. Adam just looked, didn't move except to take off the iPod; weirdly breathless.

Kris moved closer, slow, almost literally dragging his feet, eyes betraying him by sweeping down the lines of Adam's sprawled body. The anger Adam had noticed earlier was still there, crackling in every step Kris made, making Adam's breath catch.

Kris made it to the sofa, eyes big and dark, and Adam just waited to see what was going to happen.

Kris dropped suddenly to his knees at the side of the sofa and Adam actually gasped, because he hadn't been expecting that; if anything, he'd thought Kris was going to try to fuck his mouth, which wasn't such a bad plan, really, but now he didn't know what was happening.

Kris's hands were at Adam's belt, and that was just--and then he pulled down Adam's pants and boxers, just enough to get at his swelling dick. Without saying a word or even looking at him, he leaned down and took him in, hot and desperate-seeming.

Adam arched into it, so unexpected, the sight of his cock between Kris's full lips so fucking exciting. Kris choked a little but kept going, and Adam realized, whoa, not his first time doing this, definitely. And wasn't that an interesting tidbit.

Kris made a frustrated sound and clambered onto the couch half on top of Adam, rubbing against Adam's foot, still sucking him, one hand squeezing Adam's balls, aching and ready. Kris was making sounds now, desperate, greedy. Adam wanted more of that, because why the fuck not, so he pressed his foot up into Kris's crotch, press, release, press, release. Kris moaned around Adam's cock and Adam moaned back, orgasm suddenly almost there, hovering, unexpected, but it'd been a long time since something like his had happened to him, something... he couldn't think of the word, but whatever, this was fucking hot, boy between his legs, getting off so hard just on sucking him and rubbing up against him through his pants.

Kris made another one of those strangled hot sounds and Adam felt it, white heat and then the joy of the moment of orgasm, everything falling away but pleasure. When he could think again, he realized Kris had scooted forward and was rubbing off against Adam's thigh, up on his elbows, head hanging down, focused. Sweat dripped from Kris's face and Adam could feel Kris's breath, fast and harsh. Poor boy was desperate. Adam normally would just let a guy like this rut against his leg, or who knows, see if he could get him to put on a show for him, but something about the sounds Kris was making...

"Come here," he said, voice raspy, lifting under Kris's arms and pulling him up so he was kneeling over him on the sofa. Kris had those sinful sleep pants on again, or ones just like them, so it was beyond easy to slip them down, lean forward and take Kris's cock, rock-hard and leaking, into his mouth. Kris sagged a little and moaned, thrust raggedly, obviously trying to hold back.

It Jesus _Christ_ it was hot, this little Southern boy on top of him like this, fucking his mouth. He could imagine what it would be like if their positions were reversed, Kris's swollen mouth open underneath him, Adam controlling how much he took, how much he had to take.

Kris's hips jerked and Adam wanted more. He wanted Kris to know he could do this to him any time, pull him apart, make him this greedy. He brought his hand to Kris's mouth, slipped three fingers in. Kris moaned around them, and Adam's cock perked up, because holy fuck, the guy was an uptight holier than thou shit, but he was fucking intense, hardly holding back at all now, strong thighs on either side of Adam's face, arms straining to hold himself up on the armrest and back of the couch.

Adam knew just how to make him fall all the way apart, too, unless his instincts were way off. He brought his fingers, dripping, to Kris's ass, slid them down his crack. Kris groaned and shoved back hard. Pay dirt.

Adam didn't waste time; snaked a fingertip in. Kris's groan was guttural this time, the harsh sound right before coming, so Adam crooked his finger, searching...

Kris convulsed around his finger, on top of Adam, shooting hard down his throat. He managed to swallow most of it without choking, milking Kris's cock even as he felt Kris's arms tremble.

Kris pulled out and half-fell across Adam, panting. Adam had a ridiculous urge to kiss his muscled shoulder, pet his back, like he might have done back in ancient days with--

He shoved at Kris. "Can't breathe."

"Sorry," Kris mumbled, levering himself up, not looking at Adam. That was actually just fine with Adam, since he didn't have any desire to have anything more than sex with anyone, so if he could get that conveniently, all the better.

"You okay?" Kris asked, scooting back and shoving up to a stand, darting a quick glance down at Adam. "I didn't mean to--"

Adam laughed. "Mmm, more than fine, sugar. You know, they say people do to others what they want done to themselves, so I'm thinking..." He waggled his eyebrows at Kris.

Kris pressed those sweet lips together tightly. "Yeah, why do I even bother."

Adam laughed. The boy was so easy to mess with. He'd better be careful; he could get eaten alive out here in California.


	2. Chapter 2

The next few days blurred together, working long hours, practicing a couple of songs with what was left of his latest band in Paul's garage. Kris kept his distance and was never around Adam much without Katherine. Adam was content to wait, see how it played out, Kris's eyes sliding sideways onto his arms, thighs. He'd had to shake himself a couple of times, watching the fine hairs on Kris's arms in the light from the street lamps on the freeway at night, the curve of his ass under his too-baggy jeans as he leaned into the refrigerator.

Like right now, Kris reaching up to a cupboard, line of his body stretched almost on tiptoes, forearm muscles flexing. It was too easy to imagine him bent over the counter, taking it from Adam, muscles in his back flexing underneath him. Kris had already knocked back a couple of beers, was downing another one now Katherine was finally asleep. He was wearing a white long sleeved shirt, conservative pants, and a loosened tie, leftovers from the paper pushing job he hated so much.

Adam prowled over behind Kris, bracketed his body with his own, hands on the cupboards near Kris's up-stretched arms. "You know what this makes me want to do," he said low, letting his voice go into his deeper register.

Kris froze and shook his head slightly. "Not a good idea," he said shortly.

"But see, I think it is," Adam said, fascinated by the pink creeping up Kris's neck to his ear tips. "You're all uptight, anyone can see it. I know just the thing." He pressed himself up against Kris, just barely touching his thighs, ass, back. "Mmm," he murmured into Kris's ear. "See. You're really tense. I can make it better, you know I can." He laughed, gratified, when he felt Kris relax ever so slightly back into him.

Kris shook his head harder. "Not a good idea. No."

"Do you mean no, as in no, or no as in, ask me nicer," Adam purred, running his hands up Kris's arms, then pressing down on his hands with his own. "Keep these here." Kris shuddered but didn't move, so Adam pressed his advantage, pushing hard once on Kris's hands to emphasize his point, then quickly reaching around to unbutton and unzip Kris's pants. Bingo, he was already more than half-hard, and arched prettily under Adam. "Keep still, I told you," Adam tried experimentally, and Kris did, freezing in place. Interesting.

Adam suddenly wanted it bad, right now, and he fumbled in his pants for the lube packet he'd been carrying, and please, please, yes, a condom. Kris's ass was plump and full, hips curvy, his upper thighs strong and thick, and Adam wanted to lick, wanted to...

He had to focus, this golden opportunity right here in front of him. Lube on his fingers quick, and he didn't waste time, pressed one finger in, Kris so tight, god it was going to almost hurt it was going to be so good. Kris made a stuttering little sound and fell forward more. Acting on instinct, Adam smoothed his other hand up under Kris's shirt, stroking the hot skin of his back. "That's good," he said. "Take it good."

Kris opened a little and Adam went for two fingers, just working him gently open, then not so gently. Three fingers and Kris was making noises, sharp bitten-back sounds. Part of Adam wanted to make him ask, make him beg, but most of him figured that'd be a bad idea, plus he was suddenly desperate for it.

He pulled his fingers out of Kris and unzipped, got the condom on with fingers that were actually shaking, what the actual fuck, and just as Kris was starting to come around, maybe say something to stop this, he pressed in, careful despite everything, because he wasn't an absolute asshole and he figured it'd been a while, or maybe even... "Wait," he managed. "This. It's not your first time for this?" He hoped not, he really did, though he wasn't sure why. Kris shook his head impatiently and that was good enough for Adam; he pressed in more. Kris panted a little and Adam waited it out. "Breathe," he said, remembering how it felt, impossible fullness.

Kris didn't talk, but Adam could tell when he was ready, and this time he took it home, barely biting back a moan as he sank all the way in. Kris was tight and hot and making sounds and--Kris scrabbled his hands on the cupboards and Adam realized--"Here, like this," he said, voice surprisingly throaty, and grabbed Kris's hands from up on the cabinets and put them on the counter in front of them, gently pressing on Kris's back. Kris got it right away, leaning forward on his elbows, which changed the angle just enough they both moaned. Now Adam could lean over Kris, hold his hands down in one of his, bite at his neck and sweet shoulders, pump hard, find the spot. It was so fantastically hot, both of them dressed except for their pants down, fucking in the kitchen like this. Adam was going to come soon, but Kris wasn't nearly desperate enough, even though he was making throaty sounds, head bent, so Adam brought his free hand around, stripped Kris's dick a few times.

Kris was pushing back against Adam now, wanting more. Sometimes Adam was a little intense for people, but Kris seemed to like it, so Adam bit again, this time on the other shoulder. Kris shuddered and Adam licked at his ear. Kris shuddered again. "Just, just do it, just," Kris gasped. It made Adam shake, hearing Kris's voice all broken like that.

"I'm going to, I'm gonna," Adam managed. Kris moaned, a straight-up moan, which went right to Adam's belly, and there it was, white hot curl of his toes in his shoes, goddamn. He pressed down even harder on Kris's hands, probably hard enough to bruise, he hoped it wasn't too--"Oh, god," Kris moaned, spasming under him, flooding his hand, and Adam was coming too, coming hard, flare in his belly, thighs, chest, groaning guttural into the skin of Kris's neck. Aftershocks rocked them both for a minute whenever one of them moved, and Adam felt his muscles unclench slowly, Kris relax underneath him.

Adam sagged against Kris, trying not to put all his weight on him, but his legs felt weak, his arms clumsy. "Baby," he said soft and low into Kris's hair, not thinking, running his hand on instinct up Kris's back, soft, stroking.

"Mmm," Kris said, voice low and soft too, a sexy rumble somehow containing a hint of the South.

Adam kissed his shoulder where he'd bitten him, mouthing it gently; good, no blood, but that was going to bruise up. Kris sighed and relaxed even more. Adam wanted to pull him into his arms, press kisses into the heated skin at his throat, wrap him up tight, keep him safe and--

Shit. The natural reaction that set in when he fucked someone. Well, not always these days, but when--Whatever, this wasn't--

He pulled his hand out from under Kris's shirt, pulled his mouth off Kris's skin, straightened shakily. Kris made a sound and Adam was careful but fast, pulling out and tying off the condom, zipping up. Kris moved too, and was pulling up his pants, back still to Adam, when there was a little sound. "Da-Daddy?"

Oh, shit. They both turned. Katherine was in the doorway in her pink pajamas, stuffed tiger clutched to her chest. She was looking at Kris with big eyes. "Are you okay?"

Kris had somehow managed to zip up, but his shirt was hanging out of his pants. He was flushed, hair sticking up crazy, beads of sweat visible around his hairline. "I--" He stopped, swallowed.

"Of course he's okay, honey," Adam said. "Were you--Why were you worried?"

"I heard sounds like someone crying. Or hurting. Are you hurted, daddy?" She turned and looked at Adam. "Or you?"

Adam shook his head, but before he could answer, Kris shook his head and smiled, though Adam at least could tell it was shaky. "No, sugar, 'course not. Everything's fine. Why don't you run back to bed, and I'll, I'll be there in a second."

She looked them over one more time, then nodded, solemn. "Okay. Maybe a story?" She smiled at Kris through her eyelashes and Kris nodded and smiled back, crooked. "Maybe so."

When she'd gone, Kris turned to Adam and sighed. "Look, it's not all your fault, but nothing like that can happen again. Ever."

"You didn't exactly protest, honey," Adam said, words slipping out fast.

Kris looked him right in the eye, a little red in his cheeks but not looking away. "No, I didn't. Like I said, it's not all your fault."

Weirdly, Adam felt embarrassed, though he had nothing to be embarrassed about.

"Thing is, it's not good for any of us. Not her, not me, and probably not even you, though who knows. It can't happen again."

"But--"

"No." Kris's voice was still soft, but firm. Really firm, laced with a steel Adam hadn't realized he could bring. "I mean it. If you can't get that, we'll find somewhere else, move on. I've been making more money now I'm working more nights, so--"

Adam held up a hand. "No, stop. It's not like I can't keep my hands off you or anything, Jesus. It's fine. It's no big deal at all." He laughed, but it rang hollow in the silent kitchen.

Kris looked at him hard. "Okay, we'll give it a try. But I mean it. I--" he looked down, then back at Adam. "I don't know if I can trust myself one hundred percent, I'm screwed up, so. So I have to trust you a little." He screwed up his face. "Though saying that out loud makes it obvious how crazy that concept is. But help me out, man?"

Adam didn't know what to say. It was flattering, though nothing he didn't deserve, but also a little unnerving, so he just nodded. After Kris left, he stared at the kitchen for a while, wiped down the counter and floor where it needed it. He felt kind of weird. Whatever, it'd all be fine tomorrow.

* * *

Rory dropped him off at home when the club shut down early because of a sting. The cops interviewed all the employees, but let everyone go except Charlie. Adam thought about calling Kris but there was no point; it was easy for Rory to drop him on his way home, something that normally didn't work out because of their shifts.

It was going to be really fucked-up if the place didn't open back up soon, because he was struggling as it was. He hated to think about looking for work again. He was just so tired of it. And frankly, he'd been having a harder and harder time finding jobs; he had a bit of a reputation. It seriously sucked not having money. Even his good friends had stopped sharing pot, and all he had at home to eat was crackers and eggs. He'd been counting on the paycheck he was supposed to get tonight to see him through the next two weeks.

He unlocked the front door and sighed, realizing Kris would be home, but thank fuck, at least it was late enough Katherine would be asleep. Hopefully Kris would be, too.

No such luck; a light was on in the living room, Kris bent over something. A guitar. Wait, the guitar and singing he'd heard drifting out onto the front patio... that was Kris?

Kris hadn't heard Adam come in over the noise, and Adam stood unmoving, shutting the door quietly behind him. Huh. He knew Kris had done a couple of gigs, keeping Katherine late at the sitters, and he'd seen his guitar case, but it just hadn't really occurred to him to think about it much; he'd figured Kris was just another amateur working out his emo pain with half-assed singing. But this--Kris was bent over the guitar, fingers strong and assured, and he was singing, obviously keeping it down because of Katherine in the next room, but singing in that deep purr of a voice, something in C, Adam thought. A nice hook, something Adam had never heard before--he had a perfect memory for songs. Kris's voice had a little catch in it that was nice, and wasn't pitchy, though he could use some training to open his throat better.

Adam closed his eyes and let the sound wrap around him. The song was warm, sweet, something about a guitar, definitely not something he'd heard before. He got a few chills on the chorus; it had probably been too long since he'd listened to anyone decent sing something simple and beautiful. The music in the dives he sang in didn't count. Sometimes at the Upright there was good stuff, but it was usually more over the top. And Kris's voice, it was actually gorgeous, deep and smooth, plus there was something there, something more. Adam couldn't quite figure out what, but there was something--

The music stopped abruptly, just when the chorus was building again. "How long have you been there?" Kris, anger in his voice, not that that was unusual.

"I--Just a couple of minutes. Where'd you find that song? And you're good. You could use a little training to keep everything nice and open, but--"

"Yeah, you know what, as fascinating and helpful as I'm sure this is going to be, I'm heading to bed. It's late." Kris grabbed the guitar and was gone down the hall before Adam could say anything more.

That night Adam found himself trying to piece the tune back together in his head as he lay in bed. Fuck that, he thought, pulling the covers up and closing his eyes. It wasn't that great or anything. He obviously needed to listen to better music again if he was making such a big deal out of something so little.

* * *

Adam figured it out the next night at the Upright, though, what had been there in Kris's song. He was singing "Come Home" when it happened, which, of fucking course. He closed his eyes for a second and remembered Kris, bent half over the guitar, passion written on his face and therefore, in his voice. It was that, the connection to the music, that had gotten to him, had him still thinking about that song.

He remembered singing like that himself, and sometimes he still did, but not often enough. He shook himself, since the pianist was segueing into the buildup where he came in.

Shane had been hinting for a while that maybe Adam might want to move on, though Adam didn't really think they'd have the heart to let him go, since he'd been with The Upright practically from the beginning. Maybe Shane or Carla had noticed how he didn't always bring that any more, how sometimes now, the music just seemed like a job, like notes.

Not tonight: something about the past couple of weeks was shaking things up, and he'd been flashing on memories of Brad. Times he'd really rather not think about, and plus, how pathetic was it that at his age, almost twenty-eight, he'd only had one serious relationship, because even he knew that the other boyfriends didn't count, not to mention all the hookups.

He remembered waiting for Brad, knowing it was getting pathetic and unhealthy, but not being able to help it. He'd never been like it before or since, but with Brad, all he'd wanted was to be near him.

When the music was like this, it carried him away from where he was, the catcalls and murmur of conversation, the blast of cold air from the opening door, the clink of glasses. The music was all there was, gripping him and rising up out of his throat.

It startled him when it was over and there was silence. Total silence. He opened his eyes -- shit, they were a little wet -- and saw the crowd, normally loud, staring, a few people with drinks halfway to their mouths. He felt his neck get warm and coughed, smiled, but he was still in the grip of it and couldn't say anything yet. Something prickled at his consciousness and he looked over towards the door as the silence ended and the crowd started clapping and cheering.

Kris, standing with his mouth open, eyes wide, the ever-present Katherine in his arms.

Adam realized that Kris had never heard him sing before, despite all the rides late at night from various clubs; Adam had already finished every time. He wasn't sure how he felt about Kris hearing him on a night like this, but oh well, there wasn't any actual reason it should be a big deal.

Kris was still standing there, though he'd managed to half-shut his mouth. He looked like he wanted to walk up to Adam and say something, but he didn't. Adam laughed, shaking it off, and Kris rolled his eyes and shook his head, then motioned toward the door. Adam got his stuff and walked out, grinning at the people who were catcalling and yelling his name. Apparently, he was back. Adam fucking Lambert was back.

Halfway home, Kris said, "You didn't tell me you could sing."

"Sure I did. You know that's what I do, how I live."

Kris shook his head. "No. I mean, you can sing. Like," he broke off, then pressed his lips together the way he did when he had something hard to say. "Like, really sing. Like," he turned and looked at Adam when they pulled up to a stoplight, "Like I've never heard anyone sing. Ever. My god, why aren't you, I don't know, on Broadway? Why don't you have a band, a record deal? I've never--" he bit off his words.

Adam was horrified at the warmth he felt at Kris's simple words, and doubly horrified because it felt like his eyes were stinging again. It'd been so long since he'd had any hope of any of that--

"Hey, sorry if I said something wrong," Kris said, voice soft, softer than Adam liked. "It's just, I've never heard anything like that in all my life." Something about his simple statement made Adam sure it was the truth, at least as Kris saw it. "Not that it was easy to admit that, considering what you're like as a person, I'll grant you that..."

There, okay, back on better footing. "You just didn't know how fabulous I really was," Adam said. "Too bad you blew your chance with me." He waggled his eyebrows at Kris and Kris laughed, a real laugh from the belly, which, weirdly, made Adam do the same. This was good, Adam thought. It was actually good they weren't fucking.

"Stop it, you're keeping me wake!" Katherine said from the back, and they both cracked up, trying to muffle their laughter in their sleeves, but only succeeding in making each other laugh more.

Later, after Katherine was in bed, Adam heard the sound of muffled guitar from their room. On impulse, he knocked softly and went in; the door had been left half-open. Kris looked up from the guitar and raised his eyebrows.

"You can play in the living room," Adam whispered. "I mean, maybe you don't want to, but if you do, it doesn't bother me."

Kris looked at him for a moment. "This is fine."

"Okay. But it's fine."

Kris shook his head. "Your voice... I can't sing in front of you, not after that."

"But I liked it, when you did. Sing." Adam felt like an idiot now, and sounded like one, too. "Never mind. Suit yourself." He shut the door quietly behind him.

After that night, though, Kris did play in the living room sometimes, strumming quietly and singing even quieter, but at least he wasn't cooped up in that tiny room all the time.

Adam still couldn't figure out where Kris had found that song, and he didn't recognize a lot of what he heard in the evenings, either. Some of it he did, though. Kris seemed to have eclectic tastes; he'd heard a ton of Beatles and Michael Jackson, but also Kings of Leon and Kelly Clarkson and a Hallelujah that sounded like Wainwright's. A lot of times it took Adam a while to figure out what something was, because Kris had gotten hold of some really different arrangements, stuff that changed old tunes up and made them into something else. And sometimes he didn't recognize the melodies at all.

He stayed out of there when Kris was playing, because if he came anywhere near the living room, Kris would pack it in, and it didn't hurt Adam any, hanging out in the kitchen or his bedroom for a while.

One late night, though, exhausted but too buzzy to hit the bed right away, he heard something familiar. It felt weird, hearing Come Home here. He didn't like it, and didn't like the ideas about him Kris might have gotten from his performance. Kris might think he knew something about Adam, but he didn't know shit.

He sat down on the sofa and stared at Kris until after a while he faltered, then stopped.

"I--sorry, I didn't mean. If it's important to you, that is. I just couldn't help want to play it, it's so beautiful."

"Not important at all," Adam said. "I just wasn't sure I wanted to hear you screw it up."

Kris stared at him and then set the guitar aside, got up. "I won't bother you any more, then."

It didn't feel as satisfying as he'd thought it would when Kris walked quietly away down the hall, his door shutting with a gentle snick behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

Kris was kind of cool towards Adam for the next few days, but Adam was happy enough with that. It wasn't like they talked or really hung out or anything, anyway.

Kris had been looking even more tired than normal, face drawn and white, but tonight he had spots of color blooming in his cheeks, a fiery glint in his eyes. His jaw kept pushing to one side, and it looked like he was literally chewing the inside of his cheek. Adam figured it probably wasn't about him, or not about only him, because it was new. Maybe something at his job.

Adam didn't really care, but Katherine was sort of clingy and whiny tonight and Adam found himself offering to take care of her if Kris wanted to run; he knew Kris loved it, gods knew why. Sometimes when Kris could figure it out, he ran after work when Katherine was still at the sitter's. Personally, Adam only went on an exercise kick when he was feeling particularly fat and ugly.

"No, thanks," Kris said. Predictable, because the guy loved to suffer.

Surprisingly, Katherine piped up. "Adam's funny, daddy. He'll play 'tetend with me, right?"

Adam was surprised; apparently she was talking to him. "Sure! Pretend. Absolutely."

Kris shot him a look and bit his lip, still a good look on him.

"You know you want to," Adam said, gleeful that Kris would never answer back with what he really wanted to say in front of his daughter. But Kris did want to run, he could tell. Before Adam could stop himself, more words came out. "I'll take good care of her. I won't let her out of my sight."

Kris looked at Adam assessingly. Adam put a fake-innocent smile on his face and sat down on the floor. He patted the floor next to him. "Okay, sugar, bring it on. Favorite toy, stat."

Katherine smiled and ran down the hall to their room.

Kris had his hands on his hips.

"Just go. Go! Work on those muscular thighs. It's--" Adam sighed. "Okay, look, you'll be gone, what, half an hour? You know everything about me now. You have my mom's phone number for Christ's sake. I'm not going to hurt her, I'm not going to let her get hurt, Jesus."

Kris nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thanks."

"Don't sprain something trying to be polite, just go before she changes her mind."

Kris went. Katherine dragged a bunch of dolls and plastic animals out. At first it was boring, but after a while Adam kind of got into it. He remembered how he and Neil, in rare moments of relative peace, used to compromise on what to play. Adam never wanted to play trucks or race cars or army. Neil never wanted to play dress-up or shopping. So they'd played with plastic figures and blocks, creating whole fantasy worlds.

Pretty soon he and Katherine had the living room set up as sort of a combination zoo and fashion show, but the regular rules of physics didn't seem to apply, because there was a unicorn and a dinosaur, too.

"Make the voices again!" Katherine laughed.

"It's silly to have the pirate voice come from the pretty Barbie," Adam said again.

"I don't care. I like it," she said, pouting adorably.

Adam sighed theatrically. "Arrr. What shall I accessorize with tonight, my precious?"

Katherine laughed so loud Adam didn't realize Kris had come in until he was already in the living room.

"What are you doing?" Kris didn't sound too happy.

"Playing pirate Barbie unicorn land!" Katherine crowed, still smiling.

Kris frowned. "You're gonna get too excited and not be able to sleep."

"But it's so fun, Daddy!" Katherine's face was glowing, like Adam didn't think he'd seen it before, actually.

Kris shook his head. "Well, I'm glad you had fun, but it's gonna be bedtime, so you should take it down a notch." He turned to look at Adam. "I was afraid this would happen." He walked away while Adam was still speechless and trying to formulate a response that was the right amount of cutting that he could say in front of Katherine.

Katherine got quiet and started picking up her toys. It was sad to see her face turn dull again. "It's okay, honey," Adam whispered. "Your daddy won't stay this stupid. I promise."

"Daddy's not stupid! That's mean!"

Adam smiled at her, because at least there was animation in her face again.

Kris hid out in their room that night, but Adam ambushed him in the kitchen. "You need to let her have fun," he said to Kris's back. He wasn't sure why the hell he was saying anything. It wasn't like he particularly cared. There was just something--

Kris stiffened. "Excuse me?" For someone so relatively small and soft-spoken, Kris could certainly bring the intensity. Adam had to fight not to take a step back.

"You heard me."

"I guess you forgot to include the part that explains why you get an opinion." Kris slammed the cupboard door shut and turned around. He looked absolutely delectable, still in his running clothes, dried sweat on his hairline, biceps pushing out of his tight t-shirt.

"It's not an opinion," Adam said. "It's a fact. She never laughs, she hardly smiles."

Kris narrowed his eyes. "Since when are you an expert on three year olds? And I'm gonna repeat this: since when do you have a right to an opinion at all?"

"You're grieving, that's obvious, and that's okay, that's good, but it's not right that she should have to--"

"You don't know anything about us." Kris's voice was flat, angry. "Save your psychobabble pity crap."

Adam shrugged, riveted by the play of Kris's muscles under his t-shirt. He'd never seen him naked, and wow was that stupid. How had he neglected that, how had he never laid Kris out on his bed, stripped the clothes off him to--

"I said, you don't know what you're talking about." Kris advanced on Adam, eyes now blatantly running up and down Adam's body. It was surprisingly hot, having Kris sort of prowl up to him. Adam felt himself respond; bones going a little liquid under Kris's dark eyes. Hmm, that was a feeling he wasn't used to these days; he was used to being the one that had that effect on other people.

"Maybe you need," Adam lowered his voice, "to come closer and persuade me."

Kris's nostrils flared and Adam could see a faint flush running down his cheeks to his neck. He didn't have to wonder whether it went further down; he could tell from Kris's coloring that it would.

"Maybe I do," Kris said, voice deep and a little hoarse. He came right up to Adam and just stuck his thigh between Adam's, pressed right up against him. Adam could feel his body heat through their layers of clothing; gasped when Kris's lips touched the base of his neck. His mouth was lush and precise. When Adam felt Kris's tongue, just a slight flick, Adam's legs felt weak and he sighed. God, he was going to have to give this kitchen a commemorative name or something, since he'd been having such hot sex in here recently. It was pretty awesome that Kris wanted to--

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. Kris's hands were sliding down Adam's ass, and his hard length was burning into Adam's. This was--This wasn't something Kris wanted, he'd asked Adam--Fuck.

"No." Adam could hardly believe he said it. "No," he added, when Kris's hands kept roaming. "You said," he gasped, "you said no, no more."

"Yeah, well, screw that." Kris palmed Adam's ass just the way Adam liked. "And shut up, too. This works better when we don't talk."

Mmm, Kris was being a little dommy. Adam wondered what it would be like, being with a guy like this over time. There was some kind of dynamic going on here he wasn't used to, like a switch type thing, but only once in a while, because Kris was a perfect bottom, all pliable under Adam's--Shit. "No. No, no, no." Adam slid out away from Kris's hands. "Fuck. You said no. I think you meant it."

Kris rolled his eyes and huffed out a breath of air. "Yeah, see, why are you picking now to be all noble."

"It's not noble, it's just--Forget it," Adam said.

"Damnit. It's not a big deal, just--" Kris took a deep breath, then shook his head slowly. "Okay. Okay, yeah. Yeah, you're right. Uh. Sorry." He reached up and scratched the back of his neck. "I just." He pressed his lips together. "Forget it." He walked out of the kitchen.

Adam had a raging hard-on and a headache. Why the fuck _had_ he picked tonight to get all noble? And who the fuck did Kris think he was, anyway, that he was relying on Adam to keep him on the straight and narrow? So to speak.

Adam slammed his fist into the closest cupboard and went to bed to jerk off.

* * *

Kris didn't say a word on the way home the next night, just picked Adam up from Charlie's, silent.

That was fine with Adam. He was exhausted and horny and really needed to score some coke or something stronger than picked-over weed. He ached everywhere from standing so long and his throat hurt from trying to sing over the crappy, noisy crowd. It was good Charlie was back, because he needed the paycheck, but it still sucked having to deal with him.

By the time they got home he was too tired to join his boys partying; a call to Cass and that was done. He grabbed his iPod and sat on the sofa in the living room, lights off; his room seemed too depressing right now.

He pressed play on his emo list and leaned his head back on the sofa, closed his eyes. Everything just seemed so... dead-end. He felt old and used-up, and he wasn't even quite twenty-eight. But shit, he'd thought he'd be somewhere really different by now. Maybe he just needed to pack it in, like he'd been thinking for a while, do something else for money and have music on the side.

He felt the sofa dip. He opened his eyes, wary. Kris was there on the next cushion over, looking at Adam. He made a face, pressing his lips together and raising his eyebrows; Adam thought maybe it was apologetic.

Yeah, well, fuck that. Adam closed his eyes.

After a minute he felt a hand close around his arm. He sighed and opened his eyes, pulled off the headphones. "Yeah, what?"

"Look," Kris said. "I." He rolled his eyes and pressed his fingers to his temple. Maybe he had a headache, too. He laughed half-heartedly. "This shouldn't be so hard. Look, man, I'm sorry. I was a jerk, and you--You were great. I just got mad because, well, frustrated." He sighed. "Kind of with everything right now, a little." He did the lip pressing-together thing again. "Really, sorry. And thank you. I wouldn't have been happy with myself if, well, you know."

Adam did know. But Kris meant his apology, he could tell, and besides Adam was tired, really tired. He waved his hand toward Kris. "Okay, don't sweat it."

Kris nodded and breathed out hard. After a pause he said, carefully, "So, whatcha listening to?"

Now it was Adam's turn to roll his eyes. "I titled this list, 'Emo Why Are You So Emo'." He held up the iPod.

"Can I see?"

Adam felt weirdly self-protective about it, but nodded and handed it to Kris. "Try to keep the mocking to a dull roar."

Kris flipped through the list with a small smile. "Man, you've got awesome stuff on here, actually." He quirked a half-smile at Adam. "The Celine might be a little gay, though."

Before Adam could flip him off, Kris said, "Hmm, you have the Buckley Hallelujah instead of the Wainright?"

"I've got Wainright, too, just on a different list. Plus a rip of one of my friends doing it. Alisan's got this really cool voice, totally sick. Here, listen." He remembered the plans they'd cooked up, him and Ali, the songs they'd written and recorded on the cheap, tried to market as demos.

Kris did, concentrating hard, then smiled. "Beautiful." He reached in his pocket, pulled out his own iPod. "Check this out." He handed Adam his iPod and Adam dutifully listened. He was hearing--What was he hearing? He glanced at the playlist name: "So Emo Yes I Am Pathetic." He couldn't help it, he laughed; it came bubbling up into his throat.

Kris laughed, too. "Great minds. But have you heard this one?"

Adam thought maybe he had once, because it sounded slightly familiar. "Mmm, nice."

"Yeah. I think it'd be better, though, to change up the time signature, maybe just on the chorus?"

"Show me?" Adam tried not to say it like a question, like there wasn't history between them surrounding Kris singing.

Kris looked at him for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry, too," Adam said. "I didn't mean it. I like listening to you."

Kris watched his face some more, then nodded. "Okay. Okay, if you'll sing some, too? Or give me some advice, opinions? I'm still trying to sell some of my stuff, and feedback would be great."

"Your stuff?" Adam was confused.

"Well, you know, I mean--" Kris looked flustered, looked down and picked up his guitar. "Not, not really. It's just a thing I sometimes--"

"Wait. You _wrote_ those songs? That explains why I couldn't--Are you shitting me?"

Kris blushed; Adam could see it even in the low light coming in from the kitchen. "It's not a big deal. They're just some things I threw together."

"Holy crap. I thought I didn't recognize the melodies! I thought I was losing it, because I know pretty much every song, ever."

Kris gave him a look Adam couldn't interpret at first. "Dude."

Now it was Adam's turn to flush. "I kind of listened?"

Kris was starting to look pissed off. Adam put a hand on his arm. "No, see. I just--I couldn't help it. They kind of got into my head. And I miss just, just playing around with music, you know? Everything I do now is so, well, programmed. I've done it all a million times."

Kris relaxed back into the sofa, looking at Adam speculatively. "Okay, yeah, I can see that. So," he started strumming the guitar softly, "pick your poison."

"What was the song you were going to show me? Just, do whatever you were going to do."

Kris strummed a couple of chords. "Well, it's from a movie. Have you seen _Once_?"

"Yeah." Adam had seen it, coming off of Brad and lying in the dark.

"So the song, you know, 'Falling Slowly'?" Kris flashed him a smile with some teeth. "It's on my Emo List." He bent over the guitar and played, singing soft and low. His voice sounded amazing like that, actually, smooth like honey, gravel in some of the spots. When he went up, it strained a little, but the passion he put in it made listening into an experience. Adam realized he was holding his breath waiting for the next verse; he wanted to hear that sweet low croon.

When Kris finished, Adam smiled at him. "Beautiful."

"No, no, but the song is. It was something we--" Kris bit off his words and looked away.

Adam took a breath. "How about you show me some of the changed-up classics stuff you do? I think I heard 'Ain't No Sunshine', and I could have sworn some Dylan?"

Kris nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, sure. I just mess around with stuff." Kris started playing a version of 'Ain't No Sunshine' that somehow modernized it and tapped into its bluesy roots at the same time.

Adam wondered what it was like for Kris, singing a love song like that, singing all these love songs, when his wife--"Play me the one, something about a guitar? One you wrote, I think?" he asked the next time there was a pause.

Kris looked away, swallowed, then looked back at Adam. "If you'll sing later. Sing something. Not the kind of stuff--Well, just sing something you care about."

It was strangely frightening, the thought of singing for real, just him and Kris, but Adam refused to be such a wuss. "Sure. Okay."

"This one's called 'Red Guitar'," Kris mumbled. "I wrote it a while ago. I'd probably do better now, make it more complex." He took a deep breath. He looked--He looked scared. Maybe Adam wasn't the only one who knew what music could reveal.

Adam waited quietly. He wanted to put his hand on Kris's shoulder, or push the hair out of his eyes; anything to reassure him. But he didn't, because that wasn't what was going on here.

Adam closed his eyes and leaned back against the sofa. Maybe that would help Kris, give him the illusion he was alone. Kris started, soft and tentative, then built slowly. The music wove in and through Adam. He could totally hear this on the radio. It'd be perfect on his Emo Playlist, he thought, opening his eyes when Kris finished. His throat felt full.

"Beautiful." He smiled at Kris, more himself than he'd been in a while. Something about the deceptively simple melody, the complex lyrics... "Beautiful. I don't know whether to cry or smile."

Kris's eyes flew to Adam's face. Adam could see something relax in Kris, something that was holding part of him back, hiding from Adam. Only fair, Adam thought, since he'd been acting like he didn't have feelings or talk about them for a long time now. That'd never been the type of person he was, and it made him a little sick to think of how he'd been blocking all of that. "Another?"

Kris nodded, obviously thinking. "This one... it's, well." He threw a glance at Adam under his lashes. "Everyone has problems sometimes, right?"

"Sure." Kris started playing a downward scale, then sang, unique melody against a backbeat, lyrics painting the challenges in a relationship, determination to make it work. Adam's mouth opened and stayed there. This was incredible, radio material if he'd ever heard it. He wished he hadn't burned his bridges with George, because this should be shopped around.

"Total earworm!" he said when Kris finished. "Before we come undone..."

"Cool." Kris looked at Adam. "Now you."

"I have a couple of things I've written, but they're shit. But, do you know _Crazy_?"

Kris did. Adam held it back, of course; Katherine was sleeping in the next room. They just went for it, taking turns. By the second time through, Adam was running harmonies around Kris, then switching to melody while Kris did backup. Kris played really well, actually, instinctively following Adam's phrasing.

"I'd love to hear you do that letting loose," Kris said when they were done. His smile curled into something sweet that made Adam smile back, automatic. "I can't even imagine."

"Can you take something I'm doing and arrange it better?" Adam asked.

Kris could, and did. They kept it up for hours. Adam was exhausted, but it was the good kind, like staying up all night high on an idea or at Burning Man.

"Oh, man, look at the time." Kris shook his head. "I've gotta be up in, like, less than four hours."

"Sorry." Adam thought for a minute. "Listen, you want me to take Katherine to Mrs. Hanlan's? We could go on the bus."

"Nah, it's okay. But thanks." Kris stood up and stretched. His shirt rode up. There was a stretch of stomach, muscled and flawless. "I'm hittin' it."

"Yeah, me, too." Adam followed Kris down the corridor. They both stopped in front of Kris's door. Kris looked up at Adam. "Well, goodnight."

Adam swallowed. "Yeah. 'Night." Neither one of them moved. Adam's eyes dropped automatically to Kris's lips.

Kris smiled. "'Night." His voice was nighttime-husky, soft and open. Adam watched him open the door and walk in, shut it behind him.

Kris's songs played in his head as he curled in his blankets.

* * *

They started watching Idol together, Katherine usually playing at their feet for a while, then curling up on Kris's lap to sleep. Adam had just walked right into the living room the night the season started and turned it on, ready to be defiant.

"You, too?" Kris grinned, instead.

"Guilty pleasure." Adam grinned back. "Besides, I'm pretty much a queen. This is in the Rule Book."

Kris rolled his eyes. "Yeah. It's embarrassing. And I hate it most of the time, the crap they sing, and all the stupid games."

"But the music, the stories..."

"Yeah," Kris said. "Yeah. Hey, the curry should be ready." He glanced down at Katherine, sacked out on his lap. His fingers stroked her hair gently. "Thanks for playing with her. You're better at that stuff than me. Katy was always the one..."

Adam wanted to squeeze Kris's hand, but he just smiled gently when it was clear Kris wasn't going to talk any more. "I'll get you a plate." Turned out, Kris was a great cook. Adam had been saving money because of it. They read the ads, shopped specials. And Kris could turn chicken into anything. In turn, Adam played with Katherine while Kris jogged or worked out at the shitty exercise room in their complex.

"Did you watch last year? With Gokey?" Kris asked during the commercials.

"Oh. My. God. What _was_ that? Who did you like?"

"Allison all the way. I don't like the way they're sticking her into the teen niche, but I've never heard a voice like that."

"And what she said to Simon!" Adam cackled. "She's like a masterclass of sarcasm."

"Do you think they'll finally get someone this year who isn't into the whole hokey thing? Like Allison, but older?"

Adam shook his head. "There's always hope. It's funny. There was a time...I actually thought about trying out for this once.

"You shitting me? Me, too. Why didn't you? Are you serious; you'd win in a heartbeat."

Adam opened his mouth, but no. "I--Long story."

Kris watched him for a minute. "Okay. Me, too."

"What's your story?"Adam hadn't meant to ask, but it slipped out.

Kris looked down at his daughter. His eyes went to a faraway place. "I--Yeah, no, not right now."

Adam's throat felt tight but he just nodded and stood up. "Ice cream coming up."

* * *

It was almost like Adam was leading two lives now. Weirdly domestic at home, dealing with Katherine or talking about music stuff with Kris, falling into worse and worse crap working. Tonight was no exception. Hecklers threw all the usual at him: tranny, fag, plus there was the smell of booze on the bills people shoved at him, the sad lives of the regulars. He didn't even hear it any more, or see it, most of the time, but it was all getting so old.

What he needed was a hot hook-up to get his mind off everything. He'd spotted his target, a young guy in brown who'd been eying him. He should have plenty of time before his next set. Just when he was pushing the guy up against the wall in the back, his cell rang. Jesus fuck. He didn't recognize the number and was tempted not to answer, but it sort of rang a bell.

It was the sitter, Mrs. Hanlan. She'd been trying to get Kris, but kept getting his voice mail. Katherine was really sick, had a high fever, was asking for her daddy. Kris had given her Adam's number for emergencies, it turned out.

Adam shoved the hot little number away. "Call me a cab," he yelled to Alfredo behind the bar. "Should you call 911?" he asked Mrs. Hanlan. No, she thought it was all under control for now, but the little girl needed to go home.

When Adam got there, he took one look and carried Katherine to the taxi, asked for the closest hospital. "Somewhere good, though, not some shit hole." The cabbie nodded, serious. A photo of three smiling kids under the visor made Adam feel a little better; this guy was going to get them somewhere fast, somewhere good.

"She's burning up," Adam said to the Emergency Room admit people. "And won't answer me any more, except with nonsense." His chest was all tight. Katherine looked so small, helpless, lying on the table as the docs looked her over.

He dialed Kris, leaving him message after message. Where the hell was he?

A doctor appeared. "Okay, listen, we need to give her some antibiotics. Is she allergic?"

"I--I don't know. I'm just a, a friend." Adam thought hard. "I don't think so. I remember some pink stuff in the fridge, and she was fine. Oh!" He reached in his pocket. "Here's the information and permission thing from her father. The sitter gave it to me when I picked her up, in case."

The doctor nodded. "Good enough. She's got pneumonia. It can come on fast at this age, and be hard to spot. And dangerous. Good work getting her here."

"Is she...?"

The doctor nodded. "She should be okay. No guarantees, you never know for sure. Her fever is really high, but that's a good thing overall. We'll know in a few hours. We're going to hit it with some powerful stuff."

Adam was sitting beside her bed an hour or so later, where she was hooked up to a bunch of machines, a line snaked into her arm, mask over her face, holding her hand, when he heard the door slam open.

"Baby! Oh my god, _sweetheart_." Kris ran to the side of the bed next to Adam's chair and leaned over, cradling Katherine in his arms. He scooped her close, careful of the IV line and mask. "Baby, baby, precious, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I wasn't there." He buried his face in her hair. Adam could hardly watch, but couldn't look away.

"She's going to be okay, almost for sure," he said, as quietly as he could. "She's doing better, they think."

Kris turned to look at him, face white. "I was at a business dinner about selling more shoes. Marketing." Adam could hear the disdainful air quotes around 'business dinner' and 'marketing.'" I was sitting in a fancy restaurant talking about guerrilla marketing of a _shoe brand_ when my daughter, when my daughter--" he buried his face in Katherine's hair again.

"It's not your fault," Adam tried. "You're always there for her, she knows that."

Kris reached a hand out blindly, wrapped it around Adam's on Katherine's. Adam swallowed and breathed out hard. It was all the tension, racing Katherine here, handling the doctors' questions.

Kris slid down to the side of the bed, kneeling next to where Adam was sitting, leaned his forehead on their joined hands. "I haven't, in so long, I haven't prayed. I'm sorry," he said to Adam, "but I've gotta, I've gotta..."

"Shhh, of course," Adam said, letting his other hand squeeze Kris's shoulder. "Do what you need to do."

Kris bowed his head again and mouthed silent words. Adam didn't believe in God, but he thought there might be a kind of energy that love like this could bring. He let himself do it, too, join Kris in his own way; something he hadn't done for a long time, the silent sending of energy out into the Universe, the gathering of love in his heart.

After a long span of time, he said softly, "I kind of need to go, now that you're here... Call me right away, though, if anything happens, okay?"

"Oh. Oh, sure, sorry." Kris moved his hand and Adam left. And yeah, he was screwed, because Charlie took one look at him and just motioned to the stage. Adam sang, mind elsewhere the whole time. "You owe me," Charlie said nastily after Adam's set. "No time now, but you owe me. Got that? Because you're out of here, otherwise."

Adam nodded. What difference did it make, anyway? It wasn't like he'd hadn't given blowjobs a million times.

The next evening they released Katherine. Kris carried her in, asleep in his arms, straight to the bedroom. Adam eyed the door; Kris had left it cracked open. He really wanted an update, and honestly, to see how Kris was doing. He probably hadn't even eaten.

They were sprawled on the bed, Kris still with clothes on, arms around Katherine. Adam couldn't see his face. Probably asleep already.

As he turned to leave, Kris moved, turned and looked at Adam. His eyes were dark smudges, face paler than Adam had ever seen it. He looked--He looked like he was freaking out.

Adam took a step toward him, then stopped himself. Kris looked at him and bit his lip, then uncurled himself from around Katherine and lifted his hand, held it out towards Adam, eyebrows raised in an invitation.

Adam breathed out hard and was at the edge of the bed in seconds. He took Kris's hand, and Kris pulled him down to sit at the edge of the bed. Adam looked at Kris. "How are you doing?" he whispered.

Kris shook his head. "Nothing's gonna wake her up right now, with the stuff she's on."

"Then, how are you?" Adam repeated, still modulating his voice.

"I'm fine," Kris attempted, only his voice broke on "fine."

"Oh, honey," Adam said quietly, not even trying to stop himself, and turned, gathered Kris up in his arms, pulled him up into his chest. Kris's head fit perfectly in his neck. Kris resisted for a second, then gave up, burying his face in Adam's shoulder. "It's okay." Adam's chest felt tight. "Let it out. It doesn't matter, it's okay, here."

"I can't--Thank you. Thank you for today. If anything ever happened to her--I couldn't stand it, I couldn't go on, I just couldn't. Not after--"

"Your wife..." Adam whispered, laying it there softly, carefully.

"She..." Kris whispered. "She, Katy, she got sick right after we had Katherine. She, that's how they found it, routine blood work after." He barked out a sickly laugh into Adam's chest. "We had everything ahead of us. We didn't mean to get pregnant, but we did, and we were happy, so happy once we got used to the idea. And then--"

"What was it?"

"Cancer, breast cancer, can you imagine, she was so young, only it was the bad type. We--She was so brave. She, I had to watch. The surgeries, the chemo that made her so sick, everything. She had to say goodbye to Katherine, made a video. I--I couldn't stand it. We loved each other so much. We'd been friends forever, since junior high."

Adam squeezed Kris tighter, let one hand stroke his head.

"We could talk about anything, _anything_. She knew I was bi, she knew what I thought about God, she knew what turned me on. But we couldn't talk about her dying. _I_ couldn't talk about it. Even when she wanted to. And I--" Kris cut himself off.

"It's okay," Adam whispered into Kris's hair, stroking his head, his back. "Let it out." He was sure Kris never had. "It's safe, I promise. I won't--It's safe." He glanced over; Katherine was fast asleep, dead to the world.

Kris took a huge shuddery breath, then started to shake. He muffled it in Adam's shirt, still fighting it, but losing, thank fuck. Adam's eyes stung and his heart hurt. Kris had to live with all of that, live with it every single day, carry on and be strong because of his kid. It was--He was so brave.

He must have accidentally said it out loud, because Kris laughed, snorting because he was crying at the same time. "What a joke. I'm not brave, I'm the opposite. I just--I just exist, you know?"

"No, you're doing what you need to do. You're keeping it real. That's brave."

Kris sighed into Adam's chest, hands still clenched in his shirt. He eased back onto the bed, tugging at Adam.

Adam let himself be pulled down onto the bed, be wrapped in Kris's arms all the way around his back, Kris's face still pressed into his chest. Kris had stopped shaking and just lay there, breathing hard. It was so warm, Kris right there, next to him.

After a long time Kris pulled back, covered his eyes with his hand.

"No, it was good you did that," Adam said, going up on his elbows and gently moving Kris's hand from over his face.

Kris scrunched up his face self-deprecatingly, but kept his hand away, looked straight up at Adam. He was--He was beautiful, lying there all open, letting Adam see, meeting his eyes. There were just a few inches between them...

Kris got very quiet, not moving. Time seemed to stretch, slow.

Adam swallowed, then pushed slowly up to a sit. "Well. I'm going to hit it."

"Yeah, okay."

It was really hard to stand up and walk out. Adam felt Kris's eyes on him all the way to the door.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

Adam got into the car and huddled up against the inside of the door, tried to think about nothing. Kris threw a sharp glance in his direction, kept looking at every stoplight, but Adam didn't care. He just wanted to get home, take a shower, and crawl into a dark hole. The coke was burning off; he was crashing, so it was all coming back, a sick weight in his stomach.

He barely noticed where Kris was driving, but jolted awake when they pulled up in front of Mrs. Hanlan's.

"Wait here," Kris said, commanding. "She's agreed to watch Katherine for a few hours."

"But it's late," Adam said. "I want to go home, just. Go home."

"Too bad."

Kris was back in no time, and he pulled the car out with a screech of tires, jaw clenched.

"What're we doing?" Adam didn't like how his voice sounded, kind of rough.

"Going somewhere for some fresh air. I think you need it."

Adam laughed. That was probably an understatement. He must have drowsed, because next thing he knew, they were pulling into a parking area on a bluff overlooking the beach. Sometimes he forgot it was even here. It was fully dark and pretty late, but there was a moon shining silver on the whitecaps. They were the only car in the lot, and Kris pulled in where they had a perfect view down to the beach and the water. He cut the engine.

"What the fuck?" Adam said.

Kris turned and looked at Adam. "I think you need a reality check."

Adam laughed. "Baby, I've got more than enough reality. I don't need any more fucking reality."

Kris shook his head and reached over to Adam's shirt, rubbed his fingers over it where it was wet from where Adam had tried to scrub the come stain out.

Adam flinched away. "Don't. And you don't get to say anything about my recreational activities, do you?"

"Okay," Kris said, then brought his hand up to Adam's neck, traced the bruise Adam could feel coming up. "Let's talk about this, then."

Adam tossed his head. "Some of us like amusements that aren't strictly vanilla."

Kris just looked at him. "Let's go for a walk."

"A walk! Jesus Christ. All I want is to take a shower and fucking go to sleep."

"Yeah, well, sometimes it's good to do something you don't want to do."

Adam sighed. It was eleven at night, they were at the fucking ocean, and he didn't have a car. He could fight it, but it would probably just be faster to humor Kris.

"Come on, there are steps down," Kris said.

Adam sighed and kicked off his boots. Kris led him down close to to the breakers, then motioned him to the sand. "Sit."

"Yes, sir." Adam tried to quirk a grin. "Maybe this will be fun after all, if you're giving me orders."

"Stop it." Kris sat down next to him, shoulders and hips pressed up warm against him. "Just. Just stop it. Just...look. Look at the ocean, the moon. Look around you."

"If this is some religious thing..."

Kris knocked into him, a check with his shoulders that wasn't fucking around.

"Okay, I'm looking."

"Good. Now shut up."

Adam sighed and shut up. It was quiet here, too quiet, except for the regular sound of the breakers. As his eyes adjusted he could see them clearly, marching to shore, inevitable. When he was a kid, he used to think about how the same water that hit the sand here stretched all the way to China, and how the waves had been pounding this coast for millions of years.

People were just a blip on the earth's timeline; he wasn't even a speck. He remembered having that same revelation at Burning Man. The expanse of the desert and the mind-freeing drugs, the sense of love everywhere, made it seem like everything was possible, that it was important to grab every minute during your time on this earth. Now, it was just depressing.

Adam felt Kris turn and look at him. He really didn't want to hear anything about any of it. "Listen," Kris said. "It's your life. But. But I think you want more. And I don't know why you let people treat you like shit, but maybe if you stopped treating yourself like shit it would be a step."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm perfectly happy with my life."

Kris smiled; Adam could see his face limned by moonlight. "I'd almost believe you, except I heard you sing that night."

Adam shook his head. His chest felt tight. "Don't."

"You don't have to tell me anything, but... I just. I think you're more than that, what you're doing." Kris touched Adam's neck again, fingers gentle.

Adam shut his eyes; Charlie hadn't been gentle tonight. It had scared Adam a little, honestly, because it wasn't like the games he sometimes liked; it was something else. "I kind of went off track," he murmured. "I'd been in Wicked for a long time, chorus boy. But they didn't like how I kept changing up the songs when I got to do lead once in a blue moon, and they didn't like my 'attitude.' Brad and I--"

"He's the one you were singing about?" Kris asked softly.

Adam nodded. It felt good to admit that to someone, after all this time. "Nothing worked. I recorded demos, songs, performed everywhere, but it just didn't go anywhere. I thought--My friends were going to take me to audition for Idol, summer before last. I'd had this crazy revelation at Burning Man. You know what that is?"

"Yeah. So you were going to go. But you didn't?"

"We almost got there. We had a flat tire on I-5, right before the cut-off over to San Francisco." Adam grimaced. "I was trying to stay positive, that was my revelation, you know? So I tried to hitch, find a bus. But it didn't work."

"Wow," Kris said softly.

Adam tossed his head. "I'm sure it just wasn't meant to be. I mean, the odds are ridiculous. It was just a, a thing I got in my head."

"Weird. I was supposed to try out that year, too." Kris sounded thoughtful.

"So why...Oh, wow, Katy," Adam realized. "Sorry."

"Nah, least of my problems. Like you said, not meant to be. I mean, me on Idol?" Kris laughed. "So, why, when you sang--What happened with Brad, because you sounded..."

"He was my first real relationship," Adam said, then laughed at Kris's face. "I was a late bloomer. Fat and weird and confused and bad skin in high school. Still have the skin. So when he--" Adam stopped, couldn't finish.

"He didn't come home?" Kris's voice was gentle.

"Yeah. When he didn't come home, not just once, I just. That, combined with everything else that hadn't worked, I just kind of gave up."

"Even though you'd do anything to be able to do music, your own music."

Adam's eyes stung. "Yeah." Adam looked at Kris; he didn't mind sharing that. They'd known that about each other for a while now.

"You ought to do it this summer."

"What?" Adam had lost the train of Kris's thought.

"Idol. Try out. I'll drive you."

Adam laughed. "I'm too old! There's no way."

"You just turned twenty eight. You'd be in under the cutoff."

"I'd turn twenty nine partway into the show, if I made it, which I wouldn't, because I'm 'theatrical,' aka gayer than Dorothy."

"Gokey did it at twenty nine."

Adam groaned. "Don't remind me."

"Just think about it. I just have a feeling," Kris said. "I mean, you're _amazing_."

"My biggest fan," Adam scoffed.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I kind of am." Kris smiled. "Other than Danielle and Cass and your Mom and Dad and your brother and all your friends."

Adam couldn't help it; he smiled back. "Well, I'm yours. If I did it, which I won't, but if I did, you have to do it the next year. You have to promise. Otherwise, no deal."

"Like I said, the stuff I do doesn't exactly scream, 'American idol.'"

Adam grinned at him. "After me winning, you'd be exactly what they'd be looking for the next year. People always swing from year to year in what they want. And besides, you're crazy talented. Hot, too. People would eat you up."

Kris rolled his eyes and shook his head, but stuck his hand out. "Okay, if that's what it takes, I promise. Now shake on it."

Adam took his hand and they shook, solemn and ridiculous on the deserted beach. Adam didn't let go when they were done. Kris didn't either.

After a long time Kris sighed. "Okay, well, another day... We'd better get back."

Adam stood up first, then pulled Kris up by their clasped hands. Kris faltered a little and stood up really close to Adam. Really, really close. Right there, looking up at Adam.

Kris was absolutely gorgeous in the moonlight, hair fuzzy and eyes huge. He reached up again for the spot on Adam's neck and rubbed two fingers on the bruise. Adam shivered and had to draw in a quick breath.

"If you want to play games like that, that's one thing," Kris said, low and growly. "But if someone's getting off on treating you like shit, that's another."

Adam couldn't say anything, frozen under Kris's fingers. He had a sense-memory of Kris under his hands, back before any of this, their weird friendship. But it seemed like it would be something completely different now... completely different, and yet--not. His heart was beating kind of fast, thumping in his ears, and he felt a little jittery; maybe the coke crash still.

Kris was still touching him, looking up at him earnestly through his lush eyelashes.

Their eyes caught and held, and everything faded to gentle background; the moon, the sand, the breakers.

"I--We'd better go get Katherine," Kris whispered, still not moving.

"Yeah," Adam said. He didn't think he could move, though, with Kris's hand on his throat, Adam's heartbeat strong under his fingers.

"Okay, yeah." Kris finally moved his hand away, but Adam was the one to step back.

They were quiet all the way to Mrs. Hanlan's, and still silent when they got home. In the shower, Adam's hands lingered on his throat where Kris's fingers had touched him.

He rolled his eyes at himself and went to bed.

* * *

It took Adam four tries, because he kept hanging up, but he finally dialed the number. It was crazy that his hands were shaking, but it was stupid that he hadn't done it a long time ago, back when Brad had left countless messages on his phone, come by his place, sent notes through mutual friends.

"Cheeks here, can you handle it?"

Adam had to take a second to breathe. Brad's voice brought everything back.

"Is this a prank call? Because if so, you're doing it wrong, sweetie."

"Brad..."

There was silence.

"Brad, it's--"

" _Adam_?"

Adam couldn't get any words out; he felt himself getting choked up just hearing Brad's voice, so different than the California twink tone he'd answered the phone with.

"Adam, oh my god. Don't hang up."

"No. No, I won't, I just--"

"Baby. Oh, my god."

"I'm sorry," Adam blurted, then rolled his eyes at himself. "That was stupid. I'm just a little--"

"No, no, I'm sorry, that's what I wanted to tell you, all those times, you shit, you wouldn't even call me, you wouldn't talk to me. Though," he took an audible breath. "I get why. I mean, I'm an idiot, that's obvious, and also a cokehead and a ton of other things, but, _Adam_."

"Yeah. I just couldn't deal. I just--"

"Yeah, I know." There was silence for a moment. "I keep up with you, you know. Through Cass and everyone. Sorry about Wicked. That was fucked up."

Adam smiled. "That's okay. I. Brad, I didn't mean to cut you off, I just, I couldn't deal with it all."

"I obviously was a paragon of dealing well with things." Brad paused. "I was an idiot. You are a gem."

Adam sighed. "It was hard because it was so good, when it was good, you know?"

Brad's voice was still serious. "Yeah, it was." Adam heard him take a breath. "Listen, baby, those things I said, I didn't mean them, not any of them, you understand that? You're beautiful and crazy talented, and I was just scared I think, and stupid, not ready."

"Yeah, I get it, and I think--" Adam hadn't realized this until now, "I think maybe we're just too alike or something, somewhere deep down."

"Maybe so. There's nobody like you for me, though, there never will be." There was a pause.

Adam was not going to get choked up again. He wasn't.

Brad cleared his throat. "So, are you happy? What music are you doing? Met anyone? And to what do I owe the honor of the call, shithead, because I worry about you?"

Adam thought about it. "I don't know, really. It just seemed like it was time. And I thought--I don't know. Do you think we could be friends?"

"With benefits, maybe?"

Adam laughed and Brad laughed too, sparkly. It was good. This was good. He should have done it a long time ago. "I don't think that'd be a very good idea."

Brad sighed, exaggerated. "Oh, sweetie, it'd be a _fabulous_ idea." He hummed. "But not really. Though it'd be fantastic, can you imagine?"

"Shut up!"

"So." Brad's tone switched to as close as he ever got to careful. "You want to meet for coffee or something?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I do. Maybe in a week or two? I'm kind of, kind of figuring some things out."

"Sure. It's a date. And Adam, I can't even--I'm so glad you called. So glad."

Adam sat in the car a few more minutes, just breathing. Kris had let him borrow it, and he had one more thing to do. He knew he was kind of rushing things, trying to do everything all at once, but really, that was who he was; Aquarius, storming the gates all in one go. And it was past time for what he was about to do.

When he got home, he tossed the keys to Kris, grinning. Kris raised an expressive brow.

"Quit my job at Charlie's," he tossed off airily.

Kris's eyebrow rose further.

"My ex-boss might not want to be seen in public for a few days. He'll be sporting a pretty nasty black eye. He didn't take it well when I quit," Adam tossed back over his shoulder, relishing Kris's open mouth.

When he came back out front, Katherine held up a unicorn. "I made up a unicorn princess story for you, Adam!"

Adam grinned and scooped her up, lifted her up high in the air. She screamed with delight.

"A unicorn princess! I always wanted to be one when I was little. A unicorn princess would flyyyy," he said, twirling her around.

Kris came and leaned against the wall, grinning at them both.

"Maybe I should stop? Too close to dinner?"

"Nah," Kris said. "Katy gets to fly as much as she wants to."

Adam raised his eyebrow.

Katherine yelled down, "Daddy said I can be Katy now, 'cause it's the beautifulest name there is."

Adam pulled Katherine -- Katy -- down into his arms and gave her a squeeze, eyes warm on Kris over by the kitchen. "Yes, it is. It really, really is."

It was Idol night again. Katy fell asleep on the floor, and this time, Kris carried her into their room during the first ad. When he came back and sat next to Adam, Adam muted the television. "I called Brad," he blurted. "I hadn't talked to him in all that time."

"That's--That's good." Kris shifted to look at Adam. "So, it was okay? Did you--Do you think you'll see each other?"

"Coffee, probably," Adam said. "But not 'see' as in 'see.' Not a good idea, and I don't want to. It's not about that. It's just that--" He searched for words to say what he felt.

"Once you love someone like that, you always love them," Kris said softly.

"Yeah." Adam smiled at him. "Exactly."

It looked like Kris was going to say something, but the contestants were back on, so Adam unmuted the sound. As the show went on, Kris snugged closer and closer into Adam, touching all along his side.

At the next break, Adam remembered something, and dug in his pocket. "Here," he said, stuffing a brochure into Kris's hand. "A friend gave it to me. It's a church where they think people like," he paused, "like me were made by God, too."

Kris stared at the flyer. "I don't know whether..."

"You don't have to do anything. Just keep it, in case you decide you want that, you know?"

Kris nodded, quiet, stuffed it in his jeans. "I've got something for you, too," he said. "I know you're not going to--Look, I got a bonus, and I," he reached onto the coffee table and picked up an envelope, "I was going to give this to you so you could quit that job if you want, so since you already did, here." He stuffed the envelope in Adam's hand.

Adam glanced inside and bit his lip. A bunch of bills, a few hundred dollars at least.

"I mean, it's not going to last you very long, but I thought it might help until you could find something better."

It wasn't often Adam was speechless, but he was close to it now. "I--No! I can't take money from you guys!" He tried to press the envelope into Kris's hand. "Jesus, Kris, you have a little girl!"

Kris took the envelope, but put it gently on the coffee table. "It's for you. If you hadn't taken us in, we'd be in Arkansas right now, if we weren't on the streets. Being here in L.A.... Well, it's my last chance to try to get my music noticed." He smiled at Adam. "It means everything."

Adam shook his head and Kris got the look on his face that Adam had come to associate with Kris being stubborn. "We'll figure it out later, but it's gonna sit there, and it's for you."

Adam opened his mouth to argue, but Kris motioned at the television. "Come on, we'll figure it out later. Show's back on."

The married guy from Colorado with the killer baritone pinged Adam's 'dar and apparently Kris's, too. When the show was over, he said quietly from Adam's shoulder, "he's wanting to bonk Alonso real bad."

Adam laughed. "Because you have ESP."

"No. Because he probably didn't explore that part of himself much before he got married. He's so young."

Adam turned off the television. Kris didn't move his head from Adam's shoulder. "After Katy died, I just. Kind of went insane," Kris said. Adam snaked an arm around behind Kris's back, but didn't dislodge him from his shoulder.

"I cruised around for the fastest, most impersonal sex I could get. It was weird, because I hadn't cared about sex that much before, not like that. Katy and I--This is going to sound so stupid, but we waited, and I wasn't interested except with someone I cared about. I told myself it was guys, after, because I didn't want to be reminded of her. But that wasn't why." He sighed. "I wanted it, that's why." Kris sat up and Adam missed the warmth along his side right away.

Kris turned and looked at him, eyes dropping to Adam's mouth for a second, then back up. Kris's lips were so full and gorgeous, a little red. Kris quirked a smile at Adam and Adam smirked back. They'd caught each other looking, and that was okay. That was the thing with Kris; everything was okay. They understood each other at some level where words weren't even needed a lot of the time. But they could also talk, about anything.

 _Whoa_.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. _Shit_. "I've got to--Early day, so--" Adam gestured idiotically and stood up, walked quickly to his room. He didn't even look back to see what Kris's face looked like. He closed his door and banged his forehead on it, stayed there. God, Kris would think he was pathetic. He didn't have an early day; he had only one crappy job left, plus the Upright.

He was so screwed.

He was a _coward_.

Adam never used to be afraid. He'd laughed in the desert at Burning Man, seeing so clearly what he needed to do: something ridiculous. Something so ridiculous, it would bend fate to him.

He'd been sad a lot of his life, misunderstood by peers and himself, but he'd never been afraid.

For a guy like Kris, he should be willing to do anything. Kris had been hurt by life, by loving someone so much. Adam's little melodrama paled in comparison, but he was the one who was being chickenshit?

He took a deep breath and opened his door, walked the couple of steps to the living room, heart pounding. Thank fuck, Kris was still there, head back against the back of the sofa, forearm over his eyes. Adam walked to the sofa, quiet, and sat down.

Kris's arm flew off his face. He opened his eyes, staring at Adam. "What--?"

Adam's stomach was fluttery. "Do you--I want to kiss you." He couldn't believe he'd just blurted that out. He hit his forehead with his palm. "Oh, suave!" He leaned back again the sofa and laughed. "Forget it, I give up. I fail at everything."

Kris laughed, too. "Do you always give up so easy?" he asked, voice down in that warm honey range. "Because I really think that could be a handicap in life." Kris turned and brought a hand to Adam's face, cupping his cheek and turning Adam's face towards him. Kris smiled and his eyes were warm.

Adam smiled back, first little, then bigger. "No. No, I don't give up so easily." He sat up and brought both hands to Kris's face, cupped it gently.

Kris's eyes fluttered closed for a second at the contact. Adam's chest felt tight. "So, I'm going to kiss you in two seconds unless you say no," he whispered.

Kris opened his eyes and raised his eyebrows, not saying a word.

Adam laughed and leaned down, touched Kris's lips with his for the first time. They were soft and warm, still curled into a smile. He pulled away and looked at Kris's face, just to be sure.

Kris was looking at him like--

Adam's heart fluttered in his chest. He leaned in, serious this time. Kris's mouth opened under him like the most perfect thing in the world. The kiss went on, deepened. Adam's fingers curled behind Kris's ears; Kris's hands clenched in Adam's hair.

They pulled away at the same time, panting. "What do you say," Kris said, throaty, "we take this to your room." His eyes danced. "Just in case, you know."

"Just in case I have to strip your clothes off an inch at a time and kiss you everywhere, then fuck you until you don't remember your name?" Adam whispered in Kris's ear, evil, fingers on Kris's shirt buttons.

Kris gasped and then laughed. "Who decided you're the one always doing the fucking?" His hands were busy working on pulling Adam's shirt out of his pants, finding the sensitive skin of his belly.

"Mmm, I kind of think it's how we both want it," Adam said, breathless, "but if you want to switch it up sometimes I think that'd be hotter than hell. In fact..."

Kris laughed. "No fucking way tonight, sorry." He shoved Adam off him and stood up, grabbed Adam's hand and pulled him down the hall into Adam's room, locking the door behind them.

They fell on Adam's bed, laughing. Kris smiled up at Adam, flushed, hair all mussed.

Adam smiled back at him. "We kind of went at this ass backwards, didn't we?"

"Whatever works, man," Kris whispered, as Adam leaned down to kiss him.

A little later, twined together, Adam pushed into Kris for the second time ever, pulling Kris's head up with a hand under his neck and craning down; he couldn't get enough of kissing him. Kris panted and arched, the line of his neck beautiful. Adam had wondered in the back of his mind whether it'd be any less hot than the early stuff, but it wasn't. It was _mind-numbingly_ hot, Kris responsive to everything Adam did; Adam's skin jumping whenever Kris touched him. It didn't take long until they both came, the taut arch of Kris's body pushing Adam over the edge. After, they lay gasping, winded, soaked in sweat.

Adam couldn't stop kissing Kris, deep and passionate fading to light and playful.

"Mmmm," Kris finally said, stretching sinfully.

"Yeah, mmm. So, by the way, I'm kind of fucked up. It won't be all sweetness and light," Adam said, turning on his side towards Kris.

"I know. And you know I have massive baggage. Including a kid."

"She's not a 'kid,' she's Katy. And I'm glad you have baggage, because otherwise I'd be the only kind of screwed up one. That would be disproportionate or something."

"And that's just not on," Kris said.

"Definitely not on," Adam agreed, pulling Kris into a hug.

"I'm scared shitless, you know," Kris whispered into Adam's ear.

Adam squeezed him tighter and buried his head in Kris's hair. He took a big breath. "Me, too," he whispered back, safe with Kris. "Me, too."

 **EPILOGUE**

Adam touched the necklace Kris had just given him one more time. It was a phoenix, silver. Kris hadn't needed to say why.

At Burning Man, Adam had seen it so clearly, that you had to take risks, do things that were a little crazy, to get where you wanted to go.

He'd seen that negativity bred negativity, and had sworn to put only positive energy out into the world, to focus on the love that he really believed lay under everything. He'd believed that if he did that, the Universe would send it back at him, or at the very least, he'd be happy.

He'd always had a strange feeling that he'd been meant to make it to that Idol audition, but fate had dealt him a flat tire, and he'd let that tip him into a downward spiral. He didn't beat himself up about it any more; he'd fallen so low because he'd felt so much. _Loved_ so much.

Even now, he could feel the warmth from where Kris and Katy had hugged him; there were traces of little girl kisses all over his face. Right before it was finally his turn to go into the huge auditorium jammed with thousands of people, Katy had whispered, "I love you, Adam." Adam had squeezed her so hard she squealed, whispering back at her, "And you know I love you, Katykins."

Kris hadn't said a thing, and he hadn't needed to; he'd just handed Adam the necklace. "A phoenix?" Adam's heart had been pounding, like it often did around Kris.

"Yeah. Kind of hokey, but..."

Adam had pulled Kris into a hug. "You should be trying out, too."

"Nah. We already went over all this. Next year. Unless I sell my music without it, in the meantime."

"Yeah," Adam had sighed. It meant that Kris and Katherine were going to keep a low profile, if Adam went forward. That way, Kris wouldn't be tied to Adam in people's minds next year, if Kris tried out. And Adam was going to make sure he did.

Adam pressed his palm over his shirt where the necklace lay underneath. He thought about how Kris had nailed it, as always. Kris hadn't given Adam his self back. Adam had done that himself, and he liked to think he would have gotten there eventually on his own. But Kris just _got_ him at some deep level, and that made all the difference. Adam felt the phoenix lying cool against his skin, powerful. He smiled to himself, thinking about how he'd hugged Kris hard one last time, just before he headed up the steps of the venue. He'd whispered into Kris's ear, "I love you," then sprinted up the steps. He'd turned at the top and looked down; Kris looked stunned. Adam had laughed, and yelled, "Just watch me. From the ashes, baby!"

Inside, Adam looked around at all the hopeful faces, the devastated looks on those who'd already been turned away. He'd have seconds to make an impression, and that would continue through multiple rounds, if he made it through. It was time to step up.

He took a deep breath and walked up to the table of judges. He was finally doing what the Universe wanted him to, he could just feel it. Now it was time for the Universe to give back.

He gathered together all the love he'd received, all the love he had to give, and opened his mouth to sing.

~~The End~~

**Author's Note:**

> Detailed Warnings: Character death: Katy has died before this story takes place, from a disease. The Kris/Katy relationship, however, is treated with respect, and her death is not focused on. The dubious consent/rough sex warning involves Adam. He's never physically or even emotionally constrained, but engages in some unpleasant stuff with his boss, to keep a job. Does not happen onscreen. Characterizations: both Adam and Kris are depicted as being in difficult times emotionally, and their portrayal is darker than in many fics, or as they appear to us in reality. There are reasons for this, but still, some aspects of their characterization may upset people.
> 
> Author's Note on "I Would Be Your Slave: The song behind this fic is beautiful. It was the song I chose out of Bowie's work to write for, for the Queenbitchfest challenge to create a fic about Adam. Bowie supposedly wrote it as a plea to God during a period when Bowie lost faith. But it works at another level, I think, because the speaker is saying, open your heart to me and I will give you mine, I will be your slave. For both Adam and Kris in this fic, they'd been dealt blows that made it difficult for them to open their hearts to love. Yet both of them wanted it. For Adam, the message went beyond that. He needed to open his heart to positivity again. Once he did, the Universe would answer back.


End file.
